


The lovely bones voltron au

by DigimonAndPokemon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Rape/Non-con, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigimonAndPokemon/pseuds/DigimonAndPokemon
Summary: Lance McClian, an energetic teenager just getting used to life and love, was murdered by the hands of Lotor, a creepy neighbor who normally keeps to himself. Beyond the grave, Lance tries his best to help his father, Shiro, find the guilty man. All the while, helping his lover and himself find peace. Lance just hopes he can bring justice to his murderer before it's too late. Or maybe, it already is.Everything belongs to their respective owners! I own nothing of this!!A/N: Open to title suggestions





	1. Chapter 1

4 years of age-

I remember. . . I remember being really small. 

I played with my toys strewn about the floor. Everything from cars to animals. Soldiers fighting imaginary wars and dying imaginary deaths. Bugs would ramage around smashing cars and eating the fake soldiers. I turned my attention towards the table looming over me. My soldier's battle had been postponed.

. . . too small to see over the edge of a table. 

I stood up. My brown hair tickled my ear. My blue pajamas rubbing against my skin. I walked over to the table to get a better look at the object sitting alone on top it. My pants, a little big for me, falling under my feet, keeping my heels from touching the carpet. I ignored the pull on my pants with every step. I wrapped my hands at the edge of the table, standing on my tippy toes, I placed my chin in between my hands. 

There was a snowglobe. And a little penguin that lived inside it. 

It was alone. Standing inside the glass globe. Its fins barely touching its sides. Its red scarf flowing in imaginary wind. Red earmuffs protecting its non-existent ears from the non-existent cold. But, I guess you could say it was imaginary. Just like my soldiers. Nevertheless, I felt bad for him. A male I dubbed it. It had no friends. No one else in there. Just himself. Even my soldiers had friends. (They were fighting a war, but at least they had their friends at their side) I wonder what it must've felt like to be so utterly alone. 

I worried for him.

My father took notice of my gaze at the lone penguin. He must've seen how sad I was about how alone the penguin must feel. He couldn't help but lower his newspaper. I heard him stand up from the couch, and walk over to me. He kneeled down putting a comforting hand on my back. I liked his warm hand. Larger and rougher than mine, but it was not threatening. And the warmth was inviting. It was almost like a hug.

"Don't worry buddy," My father, his name Shiro, lifted the globe from the table. I watched with wonder in my eyes. "He has a nice life," He shook the globe, and hundreds of little pieces of fake snow went fluttering through the air. My mouth fell open, and I watched as some eager pieces of snow fellback down to ground around the penguins flippers. The others lingering in the air a bit longer. The ones at the bottom not so eager for change. The others wishing their freedom to last a tad longer. Now, the penguin looked happy. Like it hundreds of little friends to accompany him in his beautiful prison. "He's trapped in a perfect world." He paused watching the globe. "Look at that Lance-e-Lance." I nodded, a smile plastered onto my face. My father, too smiled. He placed the globe back on the table and walked away resuming his read on the couch. I stayed, and I watched the snow fall. My hands on the edge like it would help me get closer to the globe. And, for a moment, I wished to be in his world. To be with hundreds of little friends that fly in the wind. To have my perfect world. 

 

My mother was very fond of reading. She would always read before bedtime. She had a pile of books on her bedside. Her favorites propped up on the bed stand, always by the lamp. Like they deserved to be shinned upon. They loomed over the others, that were in stacks on the floor. I would look at them often. The covers were never the same. Each one was something different. Different colour. Different design. Rarely ever the same author. I never really liked my mother's books when I was younger. They would always talk about cheesy romance stories. Those stories were always the same. The lady would fall head over heels for the man. Blah, blah, blah. They made me want to gag. I hoped not to fall in love like those women. Still, when I got into middle school I gave the books another little peek. (I ended up reading one of those cheesy novels and crying for about an hour but we're not here to talk about that)

Though, some nights, my mother would turn her light off early, and my parents would get rather noisy. Normally everything would go quiet when the lights went out, but not those nights. Whenever I asked, they either said "They were making a baby." or "I will understand when I get older."

They were right. They were making babies. 12 years later they had two other babies. Two! I was fine after Natalie, but when Moteo was coming along I wanted out. I didn't want another hair pulling, snot invested, crying monsters! Though, I learned to live with it. I grew accustomed to them, and actually protective of them. Natalie was eleven, and Moteo five when everything changed.

My mother still loved to read, even after Natalie and Moteo. She still had her favored ones in easy reach on the nightstand. Over time, her romance novels were slowly replaced with how to books. She had piles and piles of cook books (sometimes I even used). She also had how to's on gardening and hundreds of other things. Sometimes I found them helpful. 

 

I remember being given a camera for my birthday. Ignoring my parents' warning, I would constantly take pictures.  I would make random poses in my room as I took my picture over and over. Making silly faces, kissy faces, or just plain smiling. It made me feel like a runway model. Having people take picture after picture. I would take pictures of my dog too. That happy golden retriever was always photogenic. Even in her bad pictures Holiday would look adorable. 

I always loved the way a photo could capture a moment before it was gone. Just like a leaf capture in wind. Whisked away from that moment only to have another. Wheather it was captured remained to fate. 

That's what I remember I wanted to be when I grew up. A photographer. Someone to be there to capture a moment. To catch that moment of happiness a newly wed couples felt. Or the perfect picture of a model. I always imagined taking pictures of a beautiful models whose hair got caught in the ocean breeze. The sunset kissing their skin making them look perfect. 

I remember racing down the steps in my house one day. Stomping on the steps harshly. I sounded like a heard of elephants. I had spotted something outside my own window, but the window down stairs led to a better view. On my way there I accidentally scared my mom, making her drop the plate of crackers she was holding meant for Natalie, who was sitting at the table near the window. I would've cared, but I was so caught up in the rush. I only had limited time. I took a quick glance outside and found the exact person I was looking for. I smiled and raced for the door, bumping into my mother again. 

"Sorry mom!" I quickly shouted before reaching the door. I swung it open, racing outside. I jumped over the small brick garden wall, having no time to walk around. I hoped I didn't ruin any of my mother's flowers. She worked hard on those. My feet landed on the ground with a crunch. It was fall, and dead leafs covered the ground, making it sound like you were killing a thousand bugs under your feet. I took no mind to them. I was on a mission, and no leaves would stop my rush.

Like I said before, I always thought I would take pictures of models, but I made due with my neighbor, Matthew Holt. He was also my best friend's brother, so we got a real kick of taking pictures of Matthew in his work out clothes. Every now and then, I would find him on his driveway doing jumping jacks, and other pre-exercise warm ups. I would always try to take pictures like paparazzi trying to get their big scoop on a big shot celebrity.

I ran across my lawn, my dog running happily next to me, and slid behind a bush. Mud covered the knees of jeans, making them uncomfortably cold. Oh well. Photographers would fall out of trees trying to get a good picture. I leaned out from behind the bush. Far enough to get a good picture, but enough to where Matt wouldn't notice me unless he was really looking. 

I brought the camera up to my face and made a devious smirk as I took pictures of him. Of course I would never use these against him, (only to muse my friend, Katie, or Pidge as my friends, her brother, and I like to call her) but I couldn't help but feel like an undercover agent taking pictures to help the government. 

Mathew had finished his warm ups, and made his way across the street. I ducked further behind the bush just in case he turned my way. I watched as he picked up speed, and jog away. I giggled to myself as I successfully took another round of pictures without his notice. I'd be sure to tell Pidge soon, again. 

 

It's strange the memories you keep with you. Some memories that have absolutely no purpose for stays inside your mind, most times a memory from years prior , yet you can't remember your classes from last week. Though, I loved this memory.

I remember going with dad to the sinkhole out at Krogane's farm. It was a neat place to dump all our larger trash out. Something about the way, the earth would swallow it down never grew old. It seemed to be tradition. If something like our fridge, or other larger objects would give to age, we would always come to the sinkhole to dump it.  

My father pulled an old fridge out of his pick up truck. The fridge had broken down a while ago, now it was tainted with age, and no longer looked its pearly white. "Somethings grow old," My father would say to me when I was younger and had to throw out old broken toys. "Sometimes you gotta throw it out, and get another." The large fridge hit the ground causing my dad to jump back, like the fridge had fallen on its own. He just didn't want his foot to get smashed by an old refrigerator. I laughed as Natalie and I made our way behind the orange tinted fridge. I gave it good push, moving it over to the hole. Natalie took that as her cue and helped me roll it. My brother watched in excitement. This was his first time to see the sinkhole. The first time to watch the very ground you stand on sinking something into it, never to be seen again, is, at the same time, scary and pretty dang cool. My dad grabbed a rust covered wagon from the truck and threw into the hole. It didn't fall very far, but we still cried out in excitement. Quickly laughing afterwards at our father's weak throw. Natalie and I pushed the fridge over the edge, and watch it fall into the hole. We jumped up and down in victory, and laughed as we gave on another high-fives. I would always smile at that memory. 

I remember the boy who lived in the farm, Keith Krogane. His black eyes had mystery in them. Every time I looked into them, they would trap me, and I wouldn't even realize I would be staring at them until my friend gave me a shove. He would watch us by the sink hole sometimes. Today I felt his presence. His mysterious eyes watching over me. I straighten myself and looked back. We locked eyes. My blue eyes, entering his black ones. Our gaze didn't last long. He quickly looked away. I wish I would have seen the red taint on his cheeks. I still believe things would've ended differently if I had. The kids at my school called him "weird," but I never believed them. I believed that Keith just saw things differently.

I turned back to the hole when he disappeared into his shed. We continued to toss old junk in there. Moteo threw in old toys he believed he grew out of, the same with Natalie. It was nice. We laughed as we threw old junk away, and watched as the earth swallowed it whole. These memories were the sweetest.  

 

My name is Lance McClain. I was fourteen when I was murdered on December 6, 2018. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Tw! There is sexual/physical abuse evident in this chapter. There is a warning right before the worst part, so if you don't want to read that you'll still understand the story. Please enjoy.

Fresh winter snow had fallen upon our town that day. It wasn’t thick. Barely just a few flakes every now and then. It made the ground wet, seeping through the cloth of my shoes making me regret wearing my sneakers that day. The tip of my nose was red and numb, and as I wrapped my thick jacket tighter around my body, the bells tied at the end of his blue beanie jingled at the sudden jerk of movement. I let out a long sigh, watching my breath fly out of his mouth.

‘Damn it’s cold.’ I thought rubbing my arms. I wasn’t one for the cold. Never have never will. Even when I was little, I would wrap myself up in dozens of blankets when it was snowing instead of going outside like the other kids did.

I was walking through the cornfield that day. The stalks have been long cut down, and decomposing. Still, it made my journey home even more tiring. I watched my feet closely as I stepped over the hard stumps that barely reached out an inch.

I remembered my mom warning me when I first began walking through the cornfield. “Do not eat the corn.” Allura warned shaking her finger in my face. Allura knew the owner of the farm. His name was Thace. But, in case you were wondering, no. It wasn’t Thace that killed me. He had his own children. He could never hurt someone else’s. I may have died on his farm, but I know he felt guilty. I would find him sometimes out on the field lighting up candles around the area where I died. “I’m sorry.” I would hear him mumble. He really was a good man.

“Why?” I asked my mother.

“That corn isn’t ment to be eaten.”

“But it’s corn. Right?”

“It’s meant for horses.” I knew my mother was done answering my questions, so I let the topic be. I kept my promise and never ate the corn. Not that I would want to anyways. I wasn’t big for vegetables.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when I felt my book bag fall off my shoulders, landing on the ground. I let out a frustrated groan when it landed open and upside down. Pencils and random papers fell out of the bag when I lifted it up. I was only able to scoop up the many binders and books back into my bag. There was another puff of breath as I mentally cursed my sloppiness.

I began picking the many components up, I let out another frustrated groan as I saw most of my papers were now covered in dirt and decomposing leaves. There was one last paper. One that I was waiting until I got home to open. One that, at the thought, made my heart race and my stomach make flips. It was folded neatly, and had beautiful, curvy handwriting tainting the pure white of the paper. I reached out for it, but, like the ass the universe was, there was a sudden gust of wind the blew the paper just out of my reach. I let out a cry, fear of losing the precious paper made my stomach drop. I raced after it, not caring that I knocked over my bag in the process. The wind had almost completely whisked it away when a sudden foot came down upon the paper stopping it. I felt a sudden wave relief but there was small tang of sadness. The beautiful white paper was ruined by the dirty print of a shoe.

“Whoah.” The owner of the foot laughed. “Hope that was homework.” I looked up to meet the face of one of my neighbors. I knew the man by his pure white hair that ran long, almost scraping his butt. His features were sharp. A long and sharp chin, along with a pointed nose. If it weren’t the small, kind, smile on his face I would have been afraid. I wished he was.

“I wish it was.” I mumbled as the man reached down and grabbed the paper. I placed a smile upon my face when the man straightened, handing him the paper. “Thank you, Mr. Lotor.” I said with a cheer in my voice. I creased the paper in my hands, hoping to get as much dirt I could off it. I could barely see the handwriting through the dirt. It read “To: Lance. From: Keith.” My heart fluttered at the name. Keith’s handwriting was so sturn and un-original, yet I found it beautiful compared to my own bubly one. I wondered if Keith would be disappointed that the note was already ruined. I couldn’t wait to see what was inside.

Keith was a drama student. I found it surprising to the usually closed off male. I surprised at the way the ravened haired boy could entice the crowd with his voice. How deep and emotional he made the words seem. I loved to listen to the way the boy would quote Romeo and Juliet I admitted was my favorite. Lance loved to listen to the boy’s voice, and watch him on the stage, lit up by colorful lights. I wasn’t even sure if Keiht knew I existed. Until one day.

I had been late to school. The gates had been locked, and the first bell had already rung. I had forgotten to set up the alarm the previous morning, causing me to sleep in. I heard about another way the senior kids used to get in when they were late from one of my friends. They usually went through the theater room. The back doors were usually unlocked, and the kids would slip in and out.

I was already halfway through the back stage. I held out my arms and walked slow as I made my way through the dark room.

“Lance?” I heard a male voice call out. I jumped letting out a little squeak, frantically looking around to find the owner. “Up here.” I followed the voice and looked upwards. I was met with the face with violet eyes, and dangling black hair. I felt my heart quicken when I saw the male dangling out of a hole in the ceiling.

“Keith?” I raised an eyebrow at the boy. “What are you doing?” A pale arm reached out from the hole and out towards me. I studied it, noticing the black fingerless gloves that decorated the hand. In my opinion fingerless gloves have long been out of style, but I decided not to voice that.

“Come on. I’ll show ya.” I swallowed thickly as I tentatively reached out my arm. I was about to grab the Keith’s hand. 'Oh lord, if I’m dreaming, don’t wake me.’ I thought grabbing Keith’s hand. With a grunt, Keith pulled me up into the low ceiling, and I scrambled to keep myself from falling back out. It was like an attic space up here. Though it was only large enough for you to crawl through, it wasn’t uncomfortable. I went onto my hands and knees, promptly looking up, and, oh boy, the view. I felt a deep blush creep onto my face as I looked up to see Keith’s butt right in front of my face.

'Look away, creep!’ My brain shouted at me, but the fangirl side didn’t quite agree. So, I ended up staring at Keith’s ass awkwardly. To my unenjoyment relief, Keith began crawling away.

“Follow me.” He said quietly. When he was met with some sort of ledge, he swung his legs over, letting them dangle. I followed his example shortly after. Keith leaned back on his hands, looking out over the ledge. I followed his view and was met with nothing special. It was the open auditorium, plain gray hard carpet was placed on the floor, some foldable chairs lined the walls every now and then, two pianos, one to my right and the other tucked in the far right corner, and finally the control room on the opposite side of the large room. I looked back at Keith, totally not because I wanted to look at his soft (probably) black hair. But instead of meeting the side of Keith’s face, I was met with two eyes. The color violet took over my vision, and all my other senses. I felt my heart quicken at the deep and enticing color that devoured me. My brain couldn’t function, only thinking about the beauty of the color. For a moment I thought the smell of Keith was what the color smelled like. It drew me in. I didn’t notice the way the eyes moved closer to me. But suddenly feeling Keith’s hand upon my cheek, the way our noses touched, the color violet didn’t matter so much. Only the soft skin that touched my face. I closed my eyes leaning in closer, soon feeling something on my lips.

 

“Oh, don’t mention it.” Lotor said with nice cheer in his voice, snapping me out my thoughts. I gave him a warm smile.

“If you don’t mind, I have to head home now.” I widen my smile once more before turning around and heading back towards my things. Luckily nothing else had fallen out of my bag during the exchange. I may have seemed a little rude towards Lotor, but something about the guy always creeped me out. He always seemed too…perfect. He had the perfect lawn, with beautiful flowers that always enticed my mother, Allura, the perfect lifestyle. Yet, during all of that, he was always so closed off. He never went to block parties, rarely left his house, but when he did it was always at the same time everyday. He was just like a robot, and it was strange to see him out like this. I didn’t think of this much at the time. Maybe if I had, I would’ve done something.

“Of course, or course.” I heard Lotor shift behind me as I picked up my book bag. “You’re the McClain’s boy, am I right?” I turned around, throwing my bag over my shoulder. I gave a nod.

“Thank you for your help.” I said with another smile before taking a step.

“Oh, there’s something I wanted to show you.” I stopped, and looked at him, my curiosity getting the better of me. “A hide out, of sort.” I looked around him unimpressed at the flat field.

“I don’t see anything.” Lotor smirked before keeling down.

“Look again.” He knocked on the ground that had been replaced with …wood? It was hallowed sound, making me surprised. “It’s underground.” He said matter factly.

“Wow.” I said with amazement as I walked towards it cautiously. Lotor looked up at me then chuckled.

“Pretty cool, huh?"I nodded. "Want to come in for a bit?” Some part of me really wanted to look inside, but another told me to tuck tail and run. Something seemed off about the whole situation.

“Um, actually, Mr. Lotor, I really need to head back-” I took about a half step back when-

“Lance, don’t be rude.” He nearly yelled. Now I really wanted to run, but my mother always told me to never be rude even when they’re undesirable. In the moment, though, I didn’t realize how Lotor used my first name when I never told him it. I thought maybe Shiro had told him when he babble about me to the neighbors showing them baby pictures, and embarrassing me, but I found out, later on, that my name was never mentioned to Lotor once.

I found it very awkward climbing into the hole. I went in first, Lotor soon following. He waited at the top a moment closing the door, and making sure to lock it tight. I didn’t notice. I looked around. There was random objects strun all over the place, yet the place was oddly organized. The wooden shelves held things like action figures and candles. Off in the corner was a pile of different board games.

“This is pretty cool, Mr. Lotor.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you kids in the neighborhood could use it as a hide out or something.” He said giving me a smile. For some reason the smile sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh! Do you want a coke?” He asked, already turning away grabbing two coke bottles off in the corner.

“Sure.” I said, still looking about the place. I should’ve found it strange that there were only two coke bottles in here. If it was meant for others, wouldn’t he have more. But, I couldn’t quite grasp things. Lotor handed me the coke bottle almost too eagerly.

“It’s pretty warm in here, why don’t take off your coat?” I did. I let Lotor take and place on a dug out seat next to him. I wore my favorite cargo green jacket underneath my thick coat that day. The jacket was a little tight and had a way of shaping my hips. I didn’t notice the way Lotor looked down at my hips hungerly.

“You’re very pretty, Lance.” My heart quickened, but it wasn’t the same way Keith had made my heart race. This time it was because I was scared.

“…Thanks.” I said hesitantly. Suddenly the room felt really small, my breath seemed to be getting caught in my throat with every breath. It almost felt like Lotor was right on top of me. Like I could feel his breath on my neck. It made me uncomfortable. I should’ve left. I downed about half the bottle of Coke.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He said almost protectively. I felt myself begin to shake under Lotor’s gaze.

“No, Mr. Lotor.” I didn’t let the shaking effect my voice. Something change in Lotor’s eyes and I didn’t feel good. My stomach lurched and I wanted nothing more than to leave. I quickly downed the bottle. “I need to go.” I said taking a step towards the ladder the led out of the hole. “Thank you for everything, but I really need to go.” Just as I placed my hand on the ladder I felt Lotor grab the hood of my jacket, stopping me.

“I don’t know where you think you’re going.” He growled. My blood ran cold, and the color drained from my face. I felt myself get thrown on the other side of the room. I fell on my butt with a grunt. My heart was beating in my throat.

“I really need to leave.” I said almost breathlessly. I sounded weak. I knew it wouldn’t work. Words don’t work with monsters.

“Take off your clothes.”

“What?” I whimpered. Anger flashed over Lotors face, as he grabbed my gray shirt in his fist.

“Take. Them. Off. I need to see if you’re still a virgin.”

“I-I-I-I am.”

“I need to be sure.”

TW wait till “-*-” to continue.

I didn’t have time to respond when I felt his salty lips against mine. I couldn’t process what was going on. All I could feel were hands and legs. He wrapped his legs around my waist, rubbing his crotch against my own. I felt as his hands swiftly take off my jacket. I felt the way he grabbed my chin with one hand, pressing them into my cheeks forcing my mouth further open as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth. I felt the way he rubbed his pelvis against my own, a small moan slipped out of his mouth when I felt a bulge. I felt his cold hands reaching up my shirt, rubbing along my ribs feeling them out. He pulled away a moment to pull of shirt.

I refused to let him pull off my shirt. I kept my arms down, trying my best to resist in the smallest way possible. I felt a harsh slap against my cheek. I tasted iron, as my cheek swelled up. I was distracted, and Lotor took that moment to slip off my shirt. His lips went back onto mine and his hands began to wander. This time, down my pants. I freaked out, jumping, and pushing away as frantically as I could.

Lotor crawled over me, pushing his palms into my arm bruisingly. His legs were wrapped around mine, keeping me from moving. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what was about to happen. My brain didn’t want to admit it, but, now, looking into Lotor’s eyes and seeing the crazed lust in them, tears welled in mine. I shook my head in disbelief, tears rolling down my already bruised cheeks.

“No, no, no, no. Please.” I knew words wouldn’t work. Maybe I kept begging to make myself feel better? To make myself think I had a chance.

He lowered and continued to press his lips against mine. His tongue pulled out of my mouth dragging spit along with it, as it stroked up my cheek licking my tears away. I shuddered.

“So pretty.” He mumbled as he trailed down to my neck. He wasn’t soft about anything. He bit right into my neck like it was apple drawing blood. I screamed out in pain and I was pretty sure I heard him moan. He licked up the blood a moment before he chomped down again on my shoulder drawing the same result. “So good.” He moaned.

I didn’t notice when I suddenly felt cold air on my thighs. I wiggled under Lotor my brain creating false hope, making me think I had a chance. In response, Lotor chomped on my inner thigh, way to close to my crotch. I screamed once again.

“Don’t fight me, my blue.” I let out a desperate whimper mixed with a choked sob. I felt my underwear slip off, and panic filled me once again. “I told you not to fight.”

I fought. I cried. I begged. I didn’t want this. He stole so much from me. And all I could do was cry. I couldn’t push him off. I couldn’t do anything.

-*-

That day before with Keith, I never got to kiss him. Just as about our lips were about to collide the doors leading into the large room slammed open frightening the two of us apart.

“We told you just to draw the mannequin!” I heard the principal, Mr. Coran, shout as he stormed in. There was a girl stomping ahead, who promptly turned to respond to Coran, she was leaned over slightly a finger pointed at Coran.

“I was also told to draw features!” I knew the girl. Her name was Pidge. Though her real name was Katie. I didn’t know her on personal level, but I had seen her around. From what I could tell, she was kind of a delinquent. She was amazingly smart. Always had straight A’s, and was a tech genius. She was always quiet a good drawer as well.

“Drawing boobs does not count as 'features!’” Coran waved a paper wildly in the air. I guessed that was the reason for their argument. 

“But Haxus was allowed to draw a half assed dick on his and get away with it?” Pidge shouted, and Coran looked around frantically, making sure no one was around. Keith let out a snort. If he hadn’t covered his mouth we might’ve gotten caught.

“No! What Haxus did is unacceptable as well-”

“Well then get on his ass! Just admit it, if I was an adult or a professional artist, you wouldn’t get flustered over a set of boobs.” Coran lifted a finger ready to retort, but whatever that was, was caught in his throat. He made a huff, stomping his foot on the ground, turning around and walking away. Once Coran was out of earshot Pidge let out frustrated groan, plopping onto the ground. She let her backpack fall off her shoulders. She turned towards it, pulling out a thick book with a leather covering. She opened it and began tearing out her pages with grunts. I could see the tears slipping off her cheeks.

The moment before with Keith was suddenly forgotten as I slipped off the edge, letting myself down softly on the stage. I made my way over to her. 

I picked up one of the papers off the ground. I notice that drawing on it. A naked woman was in a sitting position looking off into the distance, with long beautiful hair. Pidge looked up at me quickly whipping away the tears.

“These are really good.” I said with amazement in my voice. I bent down and picked up another.

“Really?” I nodded as I picked up another examining it before gathering it in my other hand. We stayed like this for a little bit. Talking for a bit as I looked over her pictures helping her collect them.

By this time, first period was halfway done.

My thoughts were interrupted by Lotor’s voice in my ear.

“Tell me you love me.” I felt the chill of a knife against my throat. I didn’t say anything. Like not like it would change the ending. I would still feel as the knife slowly entered my throat. I would feel the suffocation. I would’ve still heard the gurgling as I choked on my own blood. I would still feel everything, then the nothing.

I still would’ve died. 

I never got to read that note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya boi is still alive. Such surprise 0.0  
> Thank you all so much for everything! I honestly wasn't expecting this to get this many views!! Wow!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I have no excuse!

"Like taking candy from a baby." The large male behind me sighed, shaking his head. I hadn't realized he walked up behind me as I replayed that day. The male was named Hunk. That wasn't his real name, but he preferred it. I never pried at him too much about it. This was Heaven, wasn't it? Wouldn't you want everything to be perfect? 

"Yeah," I said sadly, agreeing with him. He looked flustered for a moment, realizing what he said. 

"Wait, wait, wait. I didn't mean it like that. I-I-I mean, . . . that, that," I laughed interrupting his flustered correction.

"Don't worry, Hunk. I know what you meant." Hunk passed me a warm smile, and I gladly returned one. 'I made it too easy for him.'

 

My parents had noticed something was wrong when they finally sat down for dinner. That night, Allura had made lasagna, my favorite. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I would rush home every day that my mother was making lasagna. But when she sat and looked about the table, her white eyebrows creased and her blue eyes grew with concern. She couldn't find me at the table. She turned to Natalie.

"Where's Lance?" Natalie gave a shrug shoveling some more lasagna on the plate. I would give anything to taste my mother's lasagna again. Sometimes if I closed my eyes, and think really hard, I could barely taste it. 

"What's wrong, honey?" Shiro asked, his fork stopped its journey, hanging in the air.

"Lance isn't here. He never skips dinner. Especially not lasagna day." Allura worried. Shiro gave her smile, placing his fork back down the plate. 

"I'm sure he's fine. He's a teenage boy. He's probably hanging with his friends somewhere." I scoffed. My only friend was probably out getting drunk or doing something she wasn't supposed to. I never wanted to ask her about her times after school. Nyma was a sort of trouble maker. But she is quite nice once you get to meet her. She was strong and could take down anyone in a fight. Not to mention her looks. She always wore a crop top and shorts during the warmer times of the year showing off her body, making herself popular with the jocks. 

"Yeah, but you would think he could use a phone," Allura mumbled looking into her lap. Shiro released his fork, grabbing onto Allura's hand. 

"Everything's fine, Allura." Oh, were they wrong. I never blamed them for not looking for me at first. I lived in a world where people don't suddenly disappear. Where people like Lotor don't exist around every corner. 

 

Later that night, when I never showed, my father ran out of the house, my picture in hand searching the neighborhood for any sign of me. Of course, nothing came up. I felt my heart squeeze when I saw the look on my father's face, scrunched up in concern, worry making his heart race. Sometimes, if I stared hard enough, I could see the glint of tears form at the corner of his eyes as he desperately searched for any sign of me. I gripped my hand tightly, my knuckles turning a sickly white. I felt anger rush through me. Nothing about this seemed fair to me. 

"Anger won't fix anything." Hunk would tell me, whipping the angry tears rolling down my cheeks. I loathed Lotor for what he had done. "No amount of hate can turn back the clock. It happened. You just have to focus on letting it go."

"I know, I know." I would mumble dryly, but, no matter what, I could never let go. I could never leave my family, my friends behind. Mostly, I couldn't leave Keith behind. 

 

Keith had taken my disappearance, hard. He didn't cry at first. Not in front of everyone. The police weren't given a chance to approach Keith before the gossip reached him. At first, he didn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. But when the police car rolled into his driveway, I could see the disbelief and worry in his eyes. He stormed to the door swing it open before the officers were given a chance. Small tears were in the corner of his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. My heart clenched and my throat seemed to clog with tears. 

"Please, . . . please don't tell me it's true." His voice wobbled, his strong demeanor was gone in an instant. Tears began rolling down my cheeks. I would've given anything to be there at that moment. And I could tell he wanted the same. For me to suddenly appear, and laugh and say "Gotcha good." But it would never happen. The two officers exchanged worried glances before looking back at the breaking boy in front of them. 

"You know, why we're here then?" There wasn't much question in his voice. All Keith could manage was a weak nod. "May we come in then? We need to ask you a few questions." Keith stepped aside, letting the men inside. 

It was only after they left did Keith break down. He wasn't able to hold in the tears anymore. At that moment, I realized that he loved me. That he truly loved me. That I wasn't just another person in the crowd to Keith. He picked me out and wanted me. My mind had wandered back to that note, the urge to finally read what it said ever stronger. But glancing at the crying boy, I could guess what it read.

I reached out to Keith, wanting to pull him into a hug, but my hand went right through his arm. I remembered then, I was dead. I couldn't pull Keith into a hug. I couldn't kiss him. I couldn't tell him I loved him back. If I was given a chance, I would tell him "I love you" a million times over. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I had to try. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you so much," I mumbled, tears rolling down my cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I fell to the floor, looking up at Keith helplessly. And we stayed there. We stayed there for only God knows how long, and cried. I had to listen to Keith blame himself for everything, not being able to tell him that it wasn't his fault. I had to watch the tears roll down his cheeks, not being to wipe them away. I had to listen to his whimpering, not being able to pull him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry,"

 

Keith was an orphan. He never knew his parents, and never stayed in one spot long. At least, not until he came rolling into this town. I remember I had developed a crush the moment I saw him. But, of course, I never got the nerve to tell him. 

I will always hate myself for that.

 

"Hunk?" I asked one day. We sat on the rope swings, dangling from a large oak tree in the center of my heaven. 

"Hmm?" Hunk asked, looking up from his book. It was in a different language, but I never asked him what language or what the book was about. 

"Do you like it here? In heaven?" I swayed lightly back and forwards as I looked up at the blue sky.

"Do you?" I shook my head. Hunk went back to reading his book, and I thought that was the end of that. 

"I have mixed feelings." He said suddenly. I looked over at him, giving him a look asking him to continue. "I had someone like Keith too. Someone I would give the world and more just to say 'I love you,' but I couldn't let go of her." Hunk lowered his book, and his eyes looked distant. "And I watched her die." Hunk said finally. I felt my breath stopped in my throat. 

"Who was it?" I said timidly after a moment. Hunk sighed, a small, weak smile forming on his lips. 

"Her name was Shay. We were partners before I died." The smile stayed on his lips for a little while before returning to the book. The conversation was done with. I looked back up at the sky.

 

Heaven was what it was. It was nice, but there was a problem. I couldn't find my peace. In heaven, you got whatever you wanted. If you wanted to watch tv, you could. If you wanted to read, there was suddenly a huge library filled with books. If you wanted music, instruments appeared and you would know how to play every single one. If you wanted to dance, suddenly you were doing perfect pirouettes on pointe until you got dizzy. Whatever you wanted to do, you would and you would do it perfectly.

But I still wasn't happy. Being perfect didn't matter to me when I had to watch my family in pain. Worry had long crinkled my parents' skin. Their brows were always creased. Every time there was a knock on the door, my parents would scramble to answer it, hoping it would be me standing in the doorway. Hoping that this terrible dream would be over. But I was never the one at the door. I could never knock on that door and feel my parents' embrace. Relieved that I was there again. It was always someone else, and the disappointment would rattle them once again. It was painful to watch. It was painful to watch the way my parents would hurt all over again when the door finally closed again. It hurt to watch the way Allura became less and less eager to open the door. It hurt to watch my mother slowly give up hope.

 

The police had found the hole in the earth about two months after I disappeared. They suspected something was in that cornfield once they found the blue beanie my mother had made for me with the bells that hung off it a couple days after my disappearance. Someone had found it during a search party the neighborhood held for me. Of course, Keith had attended. Later, Iverson's family dog had found my elbow after digging around in the snow and dirt. It appeared back on the doorstep, a bloodied body part in its mouth, wagging its tail with its "great find." You could hear screams down the block that day. I almost found it amusing. Almost.

 

I noticed, after I left, that Keith and Pidge grew closer. At first, while I was still alive, they barely glanced at each other, but one day they sat down and talked. It was cold that morning, but the snow had yet to fall. Pidge had jumped the fence that surrounded the soccer/football field. Keith was sitting at one of the metal benches lining the field. He had come early to school that day to get his mind off of the recent events. It was about three weeks after I died. Keith was looking at his feet, huddling around a warm thermostat. He looked tired, it seemed like he's been crying. 

It seemed Pidge noticed too. She stopped walking, a few feet in front of Keith. He looked up at her, his demeanor changing, so he didn't seem as sad. He looked angry instead. Pidge scoffed and rolled her eyes. 

"Don't try to be the cool guy. I know you were crying." Keith huffed, seeming to look insulted.

"I was not crying." 

"Do you think I don't know what you two were doing that day." Keith looked away.

"We weren't doing anything. Someone interrupted us." His eyes soften a tad at the thought of me. They didn't stay that way for long. Glass covered his eyes once again.

"Lucky I had. I would feel bad for the janitor if I hadn't." Keith turned bright red all over. So had I in heaven. I could hear Hunk laughing behind me.

"Tha-that's. . . you- you, . . .we . . . I-" Keith tried to respond but was interrupted by Pidge's chuckling.

"Just admit it," Pidge wanted to say something after that but kept her mouth shut. Instead, she looked down on the ground, her eyes looking distant. After a moment, she opened her mouth again. "I can tell you miss him. Lance I mean." Keith looked up at her, his eyes widening in surprise. They turned soft again.

"Yeah." His voice was almost inaudible. Pidge sat down next to him on the cold bench. Neither of them moved for a moment.

"I barely knew him, could you tell me what he was like?" She lied. Keith smiled softly again. I was still believed to be missing at the time, and I noticed the hope that he still held onto. He still thought I was alive. 

"Is like," He corrected. Pidge laughed through her nose.

"Okay, 'is' like." Keith nodded, satisfied with the correction.

"He is one of the kindest souls you could ever meet. He never seemed to care what other people say about you. He judges people based off of what they do, not what people say they do. He always knows when you're feeling down or nervous. He always knows exactly what your thinking." He paused a moment, his eyes growing dark as thoughts began to enter his mind. "He didn't deserve any of this." Pidge looked at him, her eyes examining everything about Keith. She looked back down at her hands her eyes glassed over as thoughts began to consume her. Tears began to spring at the corner of her eyes. She quickly wiped them away before Keith could see.

The truth was, she was taking this, just as bad. I was one of the few friends she had. After we met in the theater we've been close since. We spent a lot of time together. Pidge taught me things, like drawing as well as computers, and helped me study when the time came. We had a nice relationship. One that Pidge never had the pleasure of experiencing before. 

I was happy to see these two connect. 

I just wish it was under a better circumstance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always apreciated.  
> Tumblr: DandP  
> Please yell at me to update. Please, please, do.


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